Four artists, one radio transmitter, all proceeds to a Memphis shelter — 88.7 Records drops a noise split today

Radio Free Memphis is a Memphis, Tennessee community radio station — the kind of operation that still believes in the physical fact of broadcast. Its associated imprint, 88.7 Records, named for the station's FM frequency, released By the Skin of My Teeth today: a four-way noise split on cassette and digital, with all proceeds going to Union Mission, a homeless shelter in Memphis. 1

The production method is not incidental to the release — it is the release's aesthetic position. According to the label, the tape was made by broadcasting the audio over a small radio transmitter to a radio receiver connected to a tape deck. 1 The label's own framing, written in full capitals, describes this as "assured quality and fidelity" — deadpan humor about the deliberate degradation baked into the process. What you are hearing on this cassette passed through the air before it hit tape.

That transmission step is the whole point. The label is a radio station. The artist named 160m band is named after the 160-meter amateur radio band. 2 The medium and the music reinforce each other in a way that most underground tape releases never bother to attempt.

The split runs thirty minutes across two sides.

Side A opens with 160m band (US), whose prior release Weak Signal makes the radio-frequency naming explicit rather than decorative. 3 Their contribution here: "I EAT THE BLOWN FUSE." Side A closes with Uranomania (Sweden), a harsh noise project working through a self-imposed goal of releasing 29 albums — one for each letter of the Swedish alphabet. 4 Their track title translates from Swedish as "To Survive a Cult, You Must Die." Allegory and Caution! are earlier entries in that alphabet project; the split catches them mid-sequence.

Side B belongs to Naweed Hoshmand (Colorado), a film composer with roughly eight years of IMDB-credited short film work, appearing in a noise context for the first time. 2 His track is called "A Sense of Uselessness." The last side goes to Constant Variant (Istanbul, Türkiye), who describes their practice as "just converting data into some weird noises" and has a catalog of releases including RIN-8499 and The Rest is Noise on Bandcamp. 5 Their contribution: "Excerpt from Grandma Hears Something."

Four artists. Two Americans, one Swede, one Turkish. A film composer making his first noise appearance alongside a project with an ongoing 29-album conceptual commitment. The range is not accidental — it reflects how this corner of noise music actually operates: geographically dispersed, loosely networked, united more by method and disposition than by geography or scene.

The r/noisemusic post announcing the split received a score of 10 with a 1.0 upvote ratio — the highest engagement of any noise self-promotion post in the past 24 hours. 2 No comments, just silent approval, which is a recognizable pattern in communities where the music does the talking.

The charity angle is straightforward: every dollar, physical and digital, goes to Union Mission in Memphis. 1 The label also posted a promo code — INTERNMICHAEL — for a discount on other releases in the catalog. A compilation from the label is planned for June 2026. 2

Thirty minutes of noise routed through a radio transmitter, pressed to cassette, with the proceeds going to a shelter. That's the pitch. Whether the music itself lands for you depends entirely on your tolerance for harsh sound — but the context around it is unusually coherent for a genre that rarely bothers to explain itself.